Pain and Healing
by Sam.J.Eller
Summary: It may have been awhile but Dean will never forget how to take care of Sammy; and Sam will always need his big brother, especially when a migraine hits.


The motel was dark as I entered our room and tossed my jacket on one of the two unstable kitchen chairs. I looked at the bed furthest from the door expecting to see my too-tall, too-skinny, shaggy headed little brother stretched out on it. Pausing as I noted his absence and taking another glance around the motel room, zeroing my gaze in on the closed bathroom door. Hearing movement behind the door put my mind at ease and I began unlacing my boots and pulling off my jeans as I talked to Sam through the door.

"Oh Sam, you missed out tonight. The bar had good food, cheap drinks, and hot women. I won a crap load of cash at the poker table. I had this busty blonde hanging off me all night, was about to go home with her when I remembered I had a dorky little brother to get back to."

I paused, pulling off my last boot and sitting on the bed; waiting for the smart-ass remark or grouchy retort I figured I would be receiving; but I knew that, since Jessica's death, silence was a new option, one I was having trouble getting used to. Don't get me wrong, I was used to silence; hunting alone had forced me to grow accustomed to the quiet that comes with being on you own, but I wasn't used to the silence when Sam was around. Sam has always been talkative, even before he learned to form actual words; he used to babble for hours when he was a baby, it drove Dad insane. Even when he hit his moody teenage angst stage Sam couldn't help talking, it's usually what got him in to crap with Dad. When I picked Sam up from Stanford I was worried he would have changed, but aside from longer hair and maybe a couple extra inches, he was very much the same kid he had been when he left, as talkative and stubborn as ever. Then Jessica died, and now I find there are times when getting a sentence out of my little brother is like pulling teeth.

"You taking a dump in there Sammy?" I called out obnoxiously, trying my best to elicit some sort of response from my stubbornly silent little brother.

I was disturbed when I did not receive a reply, even with a quiet little brother the inappropriate question should have worked. I had even thrown a 'Sammy' in there so that at the least he might correct me.

"Hey, you alright in there little brother?" I questioned, only letting a little concern show through as I walked up to stand right next to the bathroom door.

It was then that I heard it, not an actual word, but a moan so soft and so quiet that most people probably wouldn't have caught it at all. But as a hunter my ears were trained to catch the subtlest of sounds and as an older brother my hearing had always been attuned to any noise made by my little brother.

"You better be decent." Was my only warning as I opened the bathroom door, pausing to calculate the scene before me.

The bathroom was dark, no water was running, and a figure I knew to be my baby brother was curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor. I was about to scan the immediate area for the threat, the creature that had injured my little brother, until I noticed the way Sam was curled up on the floor; how he had his knees practically to his chest as both his hands were gripping his head, fingers buried in that mess of hair. It was then that I realized my brother's current state was not the result of a supernatural entity, but rather an entirely different evil; a migraine.

I found myself standing awkwardly for a moment; I had dealt with Sammy's migraines a million times before ever since he got his first one at age 14, but it had been a few years and I wasn't quite sure I could just jump back on this bike so easily. But there really wasn't a choice, because Mom's dead and Dad's lost and even Jessica's gone now and there is no way in hell the kid is going through this alone, so that leaves me.

I can handle this, I tell myself. It may have been awhile but this was Sam, and even though I may not have talked to him for a couple years, this was still the kid I raised and I sill knew what to do. I entered the bathroom immediately, shuffling silently towards the body curled up on the floor. As I reached toward Sam, my hand stalled, hovering over the trembling figure for a second as I found myself terrified that I would be rejected, shrugged off, or ignored. I was worried that my old methods and remedies of dealing with my little brother's migraines would no longer have the same healing effect that they once did. I placed my open palm gently on Sam's back, rubbing back and forth slowly as I spoke in a low soft tone, my body instantly knowing what to do even as my mind was wrapped up in worry and fear.

"Hey Sammy." I greeted softly, instantly relieved when my little brother curled himself around my body as I squatted down beside him. He was in too much pain to speak, but was physically displaying his raw need for comfort, for help, and for me.

"I'm here little brother." I assure quietly, gently gliding my hand up the quivering back, sighing inwardly as I feel Sam's spine through his sweater, promising myself once again to get the kid to eat more.

I gently squeeze the back of my brother's neck before I slowly start to stand, stopping immediately as Sam's hand snakes out and grabs ahold of my pant leg, gripping with as much strength as he could muster. I heard a soft whine come from the young man, which told me that it had cost him to take his hand off of his head and move so quickly. I couldn't figure out what made him risk further agony. I quickly squatted back down and bent my head towards my brother.

"What's up kiddo?" I questioned, carefully brushing the hair from Sam's face so I could catch a glimpse and maybe gain some insight into my little brother's abrupt action.

"Don't leave." It was the softest of mummers and each syllable was laced with anguish. I was taken aback by the request. Had this kid actually believed for one second that I would leave him to suffer alone on this nasty motel bathroom floor? I mean I know it has been awhile, but had Sam really thought I had forgotten how to handle his migraines, or had he thought I was no longer willing.

"Please." The plea was filled with so much desperation it made me cringe; apparently Sam had taken my lack of response as a negative reply.

"I'm not going to leave you Sammy, just going to grab some stuff to make you feel better alright?"

My reassurance did not garner the response that I assumed it would; instead of the relief I expected Sammy simply tightened his grip on my pants.

"Stay." Sam quietly demanded.

"Alright buddy, I'm just going to grab something, I won't go far." I went to stand again and was halted by my little brother's other hand, circling around my ankle. His long thin-boney fingers locking around my ankle as his other hand gripped my pant leg.

"Dee please!" It was a soft sob this time and I found myself recalling how clingy my little brother got during a bad migraine. I also remembered how I have never been able to deny a clingy and vulnerable Sam.

"Okay Sammy, I promise I won't even leave the bathroom. I'm just going to get you some water kiddo, alright?" I asked, hoping my little brother would comply.

I felt Sam's fingers contract around my ankle and pant leg a couple times before finally releasing me, both of his hands returning instantly to clutch at his head as he released a low moan.

I rubbed Sam's arm in affirmation and then stood unconstrained as I took less than one step to the sink and turned the tap slowly, letting a small amount of water trickle out, careful not to make more noise than necessary. I soaked the small hand towel resting near the sink and then took one of those sketchy paper cups that were always stacked in motel bathrooms and filled it with the cool water, twisting the tap off smoothly and turning back towards my little brother.

I let my gaze rest on Sam for a moment, marveling at the way he has always been able to make his long body appear so tiny when he curls up, his hair covering his face; he looked like a child.

I stepped over top of Sam and sat behind him, leaning up against the bathtub, gingerly grabbing a hold of my little brother and sliding him onto my lap; placing a leg on each side of the thin lanky body and letting my brother curl up with his head on my left thigh as I placed the cold cloth on the back of his neck. He released a gentle sigh at the feel of the cloth, but fought me when I tried to pry his hands from his head. He was clearly afraid of any escalation to the brutal pain he was already experiencing and no doubt was unsure if I lost my touch during our years of separation.

"Trust me Sammy." I encouraged, pulling again at his hands and feeling them go limp as Sam allowed me to do what I wanted. I lightly gripped one of my brother's hands as I guided the other to rest on my knee, where it immediately bunched up my pant leg in its grip. I began to cautiously massage Sam's shaggy head with my spare hand as I gave him soft instruction.

"Okay Sam, I'm going to ask you some questions." I felt my brother's body tense up, his dread of having to move or speak almost palpable as I continued.

"Don't worry buddy. I want you to squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no, like we used to do? Can you do that for me Sammy?" I asked, sincerely wondering if my brother could handle any type of communication at the moment. I twitched a smile when I felt one slight squeeze of affirmation.

"That's my boy." I praised as I slid his bangs from his face so I could view his expression for a moment, taking in the pain lines on his forehead and wrinkles around his eyes as he squeezed them shut.

"Did you take anything for it yet Sammy?" I asked, making an intense effort to keep my tone low and soft.

Two squeezes: no.

"Do you have any meds?" I was pretty sure I knew the answer to this one, knowing we were unable to save any of Sam's things in the fire and that he hadn't been away from me long enough in the past few weeks to go out and refill his prescription. So I wasn't surprised when the number of squeezes I received confirmed my assumption.

"Alright, do you think you would be able to keep down some water? I don't want you getting dehydrated." I could tell from the stench that lingered in the room that Sam had already hurled at least once and I knew that sometimes that was it and that other times his stomach would continue to rebel.

I sat massaging Sam's scalp as I waited for his response. After about a minute of thought I felt one gentle squeeze in my hand. I picked up the paper cup I had set next to me and brought it around. I felt my brother release his grip on my jeans and watched as he reached towards me with his hand, refusing to open his eyes, but expecting me to give him the water. The problem was that Sam's hand was shaking so badly I knew that there was no way he was going to be able to hold the cup let alone drink from it.

"I got this Sammy." I assured softly, watching as he stubbornly kept his hand outstretched in my direction.

"Sam." I admonished quietly, pushing his had away. Thankfully my brother put his stubbornness and independence away for another time and returned his hand to my knee. I leaned over the shaggy head pressing into my lap as I brought the cup to Sam's lips, waiting for them to open and then carefully tipping the cup. Sam took a few sips and then squeezed my hand, letting me know he was finished. I set the cup beside me on the floor as I used my sleeve to wipe away the drops of water that had escaped and were running down my little brother's chin. Normally Sam would be entirely mortified that I had to help him drink and that I used my sleeve to wipe his face. Lying so vulnerably and childishly on my lap would, on an average day, have my brother's independent streak going crazy, but migraines had always taken all his energy and with that went his stubbornness and pride.

I hated to see my kid so helpless and in so much pain, but honestly I almost enjoyed the way he clung to me and became so dependant.

The migraines had started back when Sam was 14 and had just entered his teenage years. Sam has been independent since birth, wanting to do everything on his own before he was ready to, but when he hit the teenage stage independence became a fierce and desperate desire to prove himself. In those days it took my little brother having horrible migraines for him to lower his defenses. Massaging my little brother's shaggy head as he clung to my knee and trembled in my lap, I leaned back knowing there was nothing more I could do, but comfort my little brother as he rode out the pain. I let myself get sucked in to the past as I listened to Sam's stuttered breathing.

"_Oh come on Trish, it's one class." _

"_It's always just one class with you Dean, I need to keep my marks up or my dad's not going to buy me a car."_

"_We could go hang out in my car." _

"_You mean we could go make out in your car." _

"_Well ya." _

_Trish roller her eyes at me, as if she hadn't been the one hanging off me since I got to this school last week. _

_Dad had dropped me and Sam off in this town at the start of last week sticking around long enough to pay for the motel and enroll us in school. I had met Trish on the first day; she was one of those classic slightly slutty girls who have things for bad boys. And while I found her terribly irritating, whiney, and entitled, I have never been one to deny female attention. Sammy on the other hand…well he doesn't even know how to handle it. He's so shy and quiet at school and especially when it comes to girls; don't know where he got that from, I figure maybe mom had been that way. _

"_Fiine Dean, you win." Trish said with a sigh, as though she's doing me a favor; but hey, I'll take it. _

_We rushed out to the Impala, my baby sitting in the parking lot, looking sleek and clean in the sun. _

_Well into making out, our lips locked, tongues intertwined, and hands wandering, I heard my cell going off and groaned. I pulled it out of my pocket as I broke our kiss, hearing Trish release a frustrated huff as I flipped it open and placed it to my ear. _

"_Ya." I answered, assuming it was my dad calling to let me know how much longer he intended to be. _

"_Dean." I immediately knew who the soft voice belonged to and I was instantly alert. _

"_Sammy? Dude you're supposed to be in Science right now aren't you?" I questioned, knowing my little brother's schedule better than my own. _

"_Dean, it's happening again." Came the whispered reply. _

"_What's happening? What's wrong little brother?" I asked, my concern rising as I put a hand up to silence the impatient girl complaining next to me. _

"_My head." Two little words, but they were all I needed. _

"_Migraine." It wasn't a question, I knew the answer; Sam had had 2 already. _

_Dad had known the first time Sam could barely function due to the intense pain in his skull what was happening. He had sent Sam to bed, turned the lights off and made every effort not to make a sound. Dad had explained to me when Sam had fallen asleep what migraines were and that Mom used to get them when she had been exhausted or stressed. Apparently Mom hadn't gotten them very often because Dad said Sam would probably only have a few a year. What the man failed to take into account was that the life we lead is stressful and if many sleepless nights and constant travelling isn't exhausting than I don't know what the hell is. This was Sam's third migraine in a time span of just a couple months. _

"_Where are you Sam?" I asked through the phone; trying to make my voice quiet, but clear. _

"_The bathroom, the one by your locker." _

"_Alright, hang tight little bro, I'm on my way." I promised, ending the call. _

"_Sorry Trish, I gotta go." I said. Pushing the door open and scrambling out of the car, I waited impatiently as she slowly climbed out after me. _

"_Well what am I supposed to do now Dean? I can't show up to class late." She complained, pushing out her bottom lip as she pouted. _

"_Do whatever you want, but I got to go." I said, walking towards the school. _

"_Come on Dean," She whined, grabbing ahold of my arm. "Can't your brother just wait?" _

_It always amazes me how all these girls get all giddy about how close I am with Sam, but the moment they find our relationship an inconvenience they seem to have a problem with me taking care of the kid. Well fuck them. _

"_No Tammy, he can't wait. So fuck off." I grunted, ripping my arm from her grip as I sped up, desperate to get to Sammy. _

"_It's Trish! You jerk!" I heard her holler as I stormed away, not giving a shit about her name, or her face, of the fact that she'd probably never talk to me again._

"_Sammy." I called out softly as I entered the bathroom. _

"_Here." I gently pushed open the stall I heard his voice behind. _

_I looked at my little brother, sitting atop a closed toilet seat with his head cradled in his hands. I knelt down in front of him, placing my hands on his knees as I tried to get a look at his face. _

"_How you doing kiddo?" _

"_Hurts." The word almost a whimper as it escaped my baby brother's lips. _

"_I bet. Let's get out of here man." I said, standing and gently pulling Sam up with me. He remained hunched over, palms pressing on his eyes as he held his head. With one hand on his back and the other under his elbow I lead Sammy out of the school, glad that everyone was still in class so there were no people around making noise or questioning our actions. _

_The second I opened the school door to head outside Sam gasped and spun around, pressing his head into my abdomen as he tried to escape the brightness of the sun. I silently scolded myself for not taking the blinding light into consideration and I pulled off my leather jacket, draping it over my little brother's head before squatting with my back in front of him. Sam lifted his head and squinted at me in confusion, pulling the jacket off his face to understand. I grabbed his hands and pulled them over my shoulders, instantly my little brother comprehended the situation and carefully climbed onto my back. Before I stood to full height I made sure that my jacket was properly draped over Sam, so that it wouldn't let any sunlight penetrate. Once I was satisfied, I stood slowly, opening the door and stepping out into the afternoon light, feeling Sam's hands clench, balling up my shirt as his head pressed into my back. I hoisted him up carefully, cautious not to dislodge the jacket or disturb Sam as I got a better grip and started towards the car. _

_I unloaded Sam carefully into the backseat, attempting to arrange him on the seat, but watching as I climbed down into the footwell, insisting it was darker. I sighed and quietly got into the driver's seat, cursing my baby's loud rumble for the first time, personally loving the sound, but hating that it would only add to my little brother's agony. _

_When we arrived to the motel I was hoping that Sammy would have fallen asleep but as I opened the back door to lift him out I peeked under my jacket and cringed as I saw tears slipping out from underneath the kid's closed eyelids. _

"_It's okay Sammy, I got you." I assured as I ignored his attempt to climb out and gathered him into my arms instead. One hand under his knees and another on his back I lifted him out of the car, readjusting my grip as he turned into me, pressing his face against my collarbone. I winced as he flinched in my arms at the sound of the Impala's door blowing closed. _

_Sam may be 14 now, but he's a tiny 14, nothing to him but skin and bones and little height to speak of, although my father insists he will sprout up eventually. Luckily that hadn't happened yet, therefore holding him as I unlocked and opened our room door was not a problem. _

_I lay Sam in the bed, watching him turn onto his side, hands immediately clutching at his head. I made sure the lights were off and blinds closed before I wet a wash cloth and ran it on Sam's forehead under all that hair, then down his face; wiping away the tear tracks. I left the cool cloth to rest on my little brother's neck as I took a seat against the headboard in the bed beside him. I reached out and slowly rubbed his back, knowing there was nothing more I could do, and hating that I had to sit here and watch my kid in pain until the migraine had run its course. _

_Sam turned slowly, pressing his face against my side, one hand buried in his hair gripping his head as the other wrapped around the bottom of my shirt. It always amazed me how open and vulnerable Sam would get during his migraines, having no shame and clinging to me like he had back when he was a young child. I wanted to say something reassuring, but was afraid of adding to the pain; so I simply continued to rub Sam's back as he clung to me. _

_That night, after Sam had finally fallen asleep I did some research, discovering that there were medication offered for those who suffered from migraines. I immediately called my dad, standing outside the room as to not wake Sam. I informed him that we were taking Sam to the doctor and getting him a prescription. My father fought me, his perpetual distain for hospitals and doctors dictating the conversation until I told him Sam had been crying because of the pain today and that every migraine he has is worse than the last. I offered to pay for the appointment and any meds required, saying I'd do whatever was necessary to make sure Sam gets some medicine. _

_Because Sam is my responsibility and there is no way in hell I will every let him suffer if there is a way to help him. _

I was torn from my reflective state as I felt Sam's body lurch away from my hold; understanding the speed of the movement when I saw him hanging over the toilet. I winced as I watched his entire body quaking as he wretched into the bowl. I stood over him, placing my hand on his forehead, supporting his shaggy noggin as he spewed out the meager contents of his stomach.

"Awe Sammy." I sighed as I watched him pant for breath, tears sliding down his face as the pain seared through his brain.

"Dean." My little brother sobbed as he fell against the bowl, still dry heaving, his body wracking so hard from the pain that he was unable to properly support himself. I kept a hand holding up his head as I place an arm around his chest, holding him above the toilet while he gagged nothing but stomach acid. In this position I was again reminded how thin my brother was, hating that I could support his tall body so easily.

I cursed silently, horrified and angry that I couldn't do anything to help Sam and furious we didn't have his meds; even though I knew that even if we did have them it would be too late now, the migraine had been too far along by the time I found him for the meds to do much of anything.

Finally finished expelling everything and anything within his stomach Sam pushed back from the commode, wiping a shaky hand across his mouth as he caught his breath.

As I felt my brother's body tremble at having just exerted itself in a way that caused the level of agony in his skull to sky-rocket, I wished that he could just pass out. It had happened before during migraines when we hadn't had his meds or they'd been administered too late to do anything; the pain rising to unbearable levels and forcing Sam's body to give in to the anguish.

"Ooh God. Dean." Sam moaned softly.

"You always were one for dramatics Sammy." I said with a smirk as I readjusted us on the floor, Sam's head resting on my thigh as his body curled up on the cold tile. I used to always want Sam to lie on a blanket whenever this happened, concerned about the discomfort and nasty germs presented by hotel floors; but I remember from years ago that Sam enjoyed the cool temperature in the tile and that any discomfort from the floor was nothing compared to what was going on in his head.

"Jerk." I heard him whisper. I smiled, because insults were a sure sign that we were on the road to recovery, even though it would be at least another day before we would be able to have a full voice conversation or go out into the sunlight.

"Bitch." I responded as I massaged the shaggy head that was pressing a little less desperately into my leg and lazily rubbing Sam's back, content it was trembling only minimally.

"Missed you Dean."

I was taken aback by the statement, I mean sure the kid got a little cuddly during migraines, but that confession was a little to candid, even for him.

"What? You mean Jess didn't fuss over you when you got like this?" I asked in disbelief, knowing for a fact that that girl would have been all over this kid with is injured puppy impression. I waited for an answer, wondering for a second if Sam had fallen asleep, but knowing it was too soon for the pain to have let up enough to allow that.

After a couple minutes without a response I was concerned that I shouldn't have brought up Jessica and that I had added emotional pain to the physical. Before I could ask if I had said the wrong thing, I felt Sam reach up and grip the bottom of my shirt; just like he used to when he was a kid and then I heard his soft voice.

"She wasn't you Dean. I always need you." Sam nuzzled his head into my leg after the statement and released a soft sigh, still gripping my shirt as the rest of his body began to relax.

I was left tripping over my tongue as I tried to digest the complete and honest love that had just been presented to me.

"I missed you too Sammy." I whispered when I was finally able to pull myself together, squeezing the back of my little brother's neck gently as I leaned against the bathroom wall and closed my eyes.

Because I have no problem sleeping on the nasty hotel bathroom floor, I have no issue spending tomorrow in a dark room doing everything possible to not make a sound, I will do whatever is necessary for Sam; because he is my responsibility, he is my little brother, and he is my fucking soul.


End file.
